Where we belong From the Vanguard It was a pleasant surprise when an acquaintance told me that her son who had emigrated abroad in the mid-nineties, to escape the social upheaval and encroaching hard times in the country, had returned to roost. We all had a hard time trying to convince him then that Nigeria will climb out of the abyss and that he had to hang on in here with the rest of us to do his share of pulling her out. Like many young people, he thought we were being sentimental about a hopeless case. "I'm sorry mum, auntie; I have to obey an inner voice," he had told his mother and me. "All I see around me is rot and continuing decay. There's no justice anywhere and no-one, absolutely no-one, cares about the plight of the poor like us." "You're far from being poor," I told him. "You have a good job with lots of prospects and you're lucky that there are no financial demands on you. Think of the thousands of unemployed young graduates in our midst who, several years after graduation, are still depending on their parents and relatives for survival." "I think of them, auntie, and I feel that those who can get out should do so. I'm disenchanted with everything. Bad roads, no light, no water, no good transport system; there's danger everywhere you turn. If you're one of the lucky ones and you have a good means of livelihood, you have to look over your shoulder with every step you take. In short, you can't enjoy your good fortune because of those who don't have, even though you're not responsible for their plight and you're just getting by yourself. What sort of life is that? I want no part of it as it is right now. I don't want to remain in a sinking boat." "Life's not necessarily better abroad," observed the mother. "The people over there are groaning about unemployment, inflation and danger to lives and property. Then you also have the natural disasters too. Home is home, whichever way you look at it. You get more justice in your own country." "Who says?" asked the youngman, with sarcasm. "Where I work, unworthy people are promoted over your head if you don't lick the boss's boots. If it isn't tribal discrimination, it's ethnic discrimination or something else. Anyway, you always say, make hay while the sun shines, mum, so, this is the time to get out. I think I'm right. Life isn't perfect abroad, but at least you get the basic necessities of constant light, water, good road, and a civilised life. Those are important." The youngman was born in Europe so visa was not a problem. From time to time, the mother gave me news of him. He did a short course in his field, so, that he could get a job with case. At first, he was contented with his lot, even though he complained about the heavy tax he had to pay as a bachelor; forty per cent of his salary! Also, he was not being trusted fully by his employers to perform well. They put him under the supervision of an indigene who was not as competent or as qualified as he. "Never mind that, son," his father told him over the telephone. "It's their land. Just get on with your duties and try to be happy." "You're right, dad. Mind you, life's good otherwise. I have constant light, water, and good roads. There are good programmes on radio and the telly and the shops are well stocked. I have friends of all races. My social life is great. I go to the parks, the beach, the countryside, etc." "Fine, enjoy yourself responsibly, son." "Thanks, dad. I wish you, mum and my siblings could come and live here too." "No, thank you. We'll slug it out here with the others. When we can afford it, we'll come and visit, that's all." "So, what brought him back?" I asked the mother. "Your cooking? His girlfriend? His family? Or was he er, er... "No, he wasn't thrown out, neither did he lose his job. Thank God for that. What made him come home was hearing that three ex-classmates of his had been elected around the country into the House of Assembly. He was dazed. Suddenly, he realised that at thirty-two, he could contribute meaningfully to national development, if he sticks around. Also, he realised that he stands a better chance of getting on in his career here, and can be in a position to go spend vacation abroad. Oh, and so many other things. Luckily, his organisation re-absorbed him. He now agrees that home is home, and that if people in the developed countries had emigrated to greener pastures, there would be no development in their land." I agree totally with that last bit. Our young people emigrate abroad to go do those jobs which they consider menial here, and they get all the harassment and insecurity that go with such jobs. I know that the foreign currencies make all the difference, but why run away and leave the running of the country to others to do, as they like with? When the competent abandon ship, the incompetent will rule. Once upon a time, the desire of most young people was to go study abroad, get the golden fleece as it were, and then return home to use the knowledge acquired for a better living. We can still continue to do that. In fact, our institutions and parastatals should make provision for this. It will help our development. Parents should encourage our young people studying abroad to return home after getting the relevant qualifications and experience. We need them. They are our future. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- To unsubscribe/subscribe or view archives of postings, go to the Gambia-L Web interface at: http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/archives/gambia-l.html ----------------------------------------------------------------------------